Then John Paul started talking. Until recently, his favourite and only thing to say was: a gee! So Dan started calling him Gee. Either John Paul likes the idea or he just thinks we're speaking his language, because he gives us a grin whenever we call him Gee.
But, of course, "gee" is only the phonetic for the French name, Guy. Last week, we put two and two together: John Paul just so happens to have an outfit he wears regularly displaying his name. We'll see if it sticks. He sure is BIG Guy.
Now, that's cute. He has a nickname. For now, at least.
And Big Guy has been calling all the shots around here recently.
Part of me likes to ignore the really bad parts of life in our family and just write the cute stuff and post happy little pictures on this blog. Then there's a part of me that likes to whine. Instead, I want to take the middle ground. I don't want to ignore the elephant in the room, because later (hopefully) we can just laugh remembering how difficult a baby John Paul was.
What?! That cute little Guy, difficult?!
Until very recently, we were having a really difficult month or two months or, I just don't know how long. Ever since he was born John Paul has been really difficult to get to sleep and stay sleeping. The last while it took a turn for the worse: he wouldn't nurse to sleep, he would fall asleep if we rocked/walked/jiggled him only to wake if we stopped or put him down, and he would only sleep at night on my arm, waking every time I moved. But the poor little kid was so, so tired all the time and crying to be held (but only by me) all the time.
Now, I have no idea if I'm right or not. But last week I checked out the back of the cereal box that I'd been putting very, very small bits of into my oatmeal in the morning, just to add a little crunch. Way down the list of ingredients was corn. Now corn has always been pretty hard on our babies' tummies, so I figured I'd stop eating that particular cereal. What do you know?! Our sad baby started laughing again! Only then did I realize that I hadn't heard him laugh in a long time.
If this connection seems ridiculous to you, well, I think so too. But, honestly, I'll take a happier baby any day.
Lest I leave you thinking that that's it and he's just a happy, well-sleeping baby... no, he's not. But things are much better than they were. He still sleeps mostly on my arm at night and wakes a lot to nurse. But it's way better. Only takes a few weeks of something way worse to make you appreciate the somewhat bad in life!
No, he's not a bad baby. No baby is a bad baby. He's oh-so-cute and chubby, but definitely working on getting his parents to Heaven!
